Then, There Was Nothing
My mind carries me to a place much similar to my room. The walls a stark white, my decorations appearing to be a montaged blur of familiarity. Glancing around, at first, nothing catches my eye. The grumbling of dull, heavy footsteps compile around my doors space. I cannot determine the source of the noise, so I lull in a paralyzed curiosity, like a dog who has just heard a noise that is uncensored through human ears. While it looks as though the lights are on in my room, the lighting is dim; giving the room a heavy, stormy hue. I focus on the shadows of the silhouettes of furniture casting off the dim light, listening intently for the footsteps. I wonder if they ever existed, as the room has grown silent; it feels like white noise has begun to invade my headspace. I breathe sharply, suddenly noticing the shadows beginning to grow and devour my surroundings, painting the walls with masked, black figurines. I feel as though I am in a funhouse, watching unusual shapes take form and change around me constantly. I notice I cannot see my shadow amongst them. Swallowing hard, I attempt to blink away the events swarming me. I feel as though I am surrounded, the shadows exceedingly protruding around me in a condescending manner.
Whatever they are, they are meant to intimidate me. Without warning, tall figures in a uniform manner trudge through the door. There is no indication of the door opening, as they filed in without a single sound. They are smiling, tiptoeing around in what appear to be white nightgowns, frayed at the seams. All of their faces tipped towards their chests, the five of them look as if they are hiding something sinister beneath their chins. Their dark masses of hair loom before their eyes, gentle and pale. I feel almost embarrassed; like I would be shunned if I made direct eye contact with their intense grimaces. While they appear to all be female and similar in stature and appearance, one of them stands out to me as a redhead.
The air moves around them coolly, like they are influencing the energy flow to behave in a manner of their desire. They wrap around me, like a children’s game of tether ball, appearing to size me up. My breathes are barely coherent, as I stand frozen monitoring their actions by the millisecond. Their eyes are dark, like stone, and they continue to move through the air in a robotic, stiff fashion. I remind myself that this isn’t real; they can’t do me any harm. I say it out loud, as convincing as the lies I had spewed earlier. The redhead begins first, shouting an incoherent, oddly pitched sound into the air. The four others slowly raise their faces, raven hair separating to show their ivory skin and cadaveric like cheekbones. They too, begin to match the tone of the redhead, in their own unique fashion. The sound is so curdling, it raddles my skull as their vibrations radiate and melt into my own. The redhead moves in a gawky, heavy manner, raising her arms and encouraging the others to mimic her as if she is their ringleader. The high pitched “ahh” continues.
They are chanting, and the noises become louder, and more severe as the moments pass. Louder. They begin to circle, abruptly interfering with my space, and pushing me around the room with great intent and bliss. They join hands, forcing themselves onto me. I am now lost in their current. Louder. I find myself beginning to chant with them, as if I lost control of my ability to fight the pitch any longer. It is as if they were following an internal pounding of a drum, the striking becoming more powerful in pursuit of a climax. I swirl around my room, chanting, barely carrying my own feet in lieu of the electrical current that was brought into fruition. Time is lost. I am in a trance like state, becoming one with the sharks that pleaded for me to congregate amongst them. The shadows collectively grow and shrink on the walls, like music notes grafted on a sheet of music. They are harmonious, dramatically shifting on the walls as if they were observing a conductor. I pay no attention to how my body is maintaining their pace. I barely notice the sounds becoming quieter, and that I too, had subliminally followed their lead. At last, the redhead ceases; the others seeming to have been anticipating her command. I hit what feels like a brick wall; chilled and stiff, the one next to me brings me to a halt.
They all rise to their empress, empty eyes gawking at the redhead. Nervously, I look forward and briefly examine the cult before me. They are bowing, cautiously peering their eyes beyond their graved hairs and opaque skin. There is no sign of flesh within their cheeks. I observe the redhead as the only one who appears to seem human, battered and flushed, with wide and gregarious eyes. She almost looked to have been enjoying this, twinkling in an unusual amusement. She too, seems to be lost in a trance, smirking in a disheartening satisfaction across the circle. The white noise begins to fill my head again, buzzing in a monotone manner and replacing the shrieking exposure of the chant that seemingly indented my conscious.
Suddenly, I catch the redhead’s attention, and the smile is wiped from her face. I look down, as though to repent my mistakes. It was too late. As though her head operated on an axel, it swivels towards me. Although I am not looking up and trying to contain my composure, I can feel her eyes piercing through me. Before gathering the courage to match her, I slide my eyes across the wall to focus on the clock; as though the familiar face would bring me back to reality. It seems to be the only content I can easily make out, and read in detail. The clock reads 11: 14, and the seconds hand is frozen in an icy daze. It was as though the time was at a standstill, the atmosphere unaware of physics in a certain hellish dimension. Wary, I tilt my head forward; gathering the courage to meet her. She is standing inches from my face, glaring into it with wide eyes and a broken smile. Her red hair tangles and falls below her shoulders, softly curled and iridescent in the shadowy atmosphere. Her eyes are an unsteady green, flecked with the color of an unripe banana. She is so close, that I can feel her breathe on my lips. Unmoving, she peers into my eyes, as if she is attempting to converse with my soul. The astounding silence continues, her factitiously construed pleasantness masking a threatening scowl. Unannounced, her pupils swallow her eyes, as if she had just unveiled a shocking discovery. In a hypnotic, shock like state, I watch as her lips part to release a sound.
This is currently just a short excerpt from the manuscript that I am working on, titled The Obsession. It would mean a lot if you, as readers, would be willing to give me some helpful feedback, or even advice in finishing a manuscript- if you are published or currently working on your own piece.
This piece will carry some Exorcist vibes, with a paranormal, romantic twist. I will also be looking for people who would enjoy an ARC in exchange for a review at some point in these upcoming months....
(if you read to this point, thank you).
This was inspired by an actual nightmare of mine...